The Variables

When the plane came to a stop, Hank emerged from the cockpit and held up his hand. He stared at each of them in turn.

“They know I’ve landed. I had to call it in. They’ll be sending a helicopter over for me, Blair, and Grant within the next ten minutes.” He looked at Blair and she stood, and cleared her throat.

“Wait until we’ve left. Only then is it safe to leave this plane,” she a

“That’s it?” Darla asked. “Wait for you? For how long? With what resources? There’s food there? That’s unacceptable. I want to see my son. Now.”

“It’s not that easy,” Blair added in a rush. “I’m doing everything I can...”

“I’m a mile away from my kid and you want me to go spend my time hiding in some empty funland? No way.” Darla hit the seat in front of her, and let out a disgruntled sigh. Her hands were shaking and she turned from the group to gather her emotions. “This can’t be happening...”

Frank sensed her anger and barked in her direction. Blair reached for his leash and tugged on him to quiet him down.

Dean stepped forward toward Darla, his hand outstretched, and then he moved back. He wrapped his arms around Grant instead and gave him a hug, holding him for longer than Grant felt comfortable with. When Grant pulled back, he noticed his father was crying.

“Hey—” Grant said, concerned.

“We just found each other again,” Dean said. “Feels wrong to just let you go.”

“I have to go, Dad.” Grant leaned in and hugged his dad again. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. But I have to go.”

“I know you do. I know.” Dean tousled Grant’s hair. “You come back to me, okay? You’re all I’ve got now and I am not going to lose you.”

Blair ducked to look out the plane’s side window and she swore under her breath. “We all have to go. You don’t have much time. Look, Darla, Teddy is safe with me. And I will bring him to you as soon as I can. Give me time,” Blair said, her voice pleading. “Time means a good escape...time means you and Teddy will be safe forever...”

“How much time?” Darla asked.

Blair shrugged, frowning. “Until I have it all figured out...how to get him to you, forever, safely. Don’t you see? It’s not like I can just go and get him, and come back here. What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to explain that? There’s more to it than that...if you want to be safe, forever, if you don’t want to spend your life wondering if the bogeyman is coming back for you, then you’ll wait. And you’ll trust me.”

“I can’t—” Darla said. “I can’t just...not do anything.”

“We have to,” Dean said. He patted Grant on the back.

The pilot made his way to the emergency exit and lifted the hatch and deployed the slide. It unfurled and plumped up and settled on the sand below. He took the leap first, sliding down the bright yellow plastic to the ground, and Blair followed. When she reached the bottom, she called to Grant to join them and for everyone else to stay hidden until the area was clear.

The helicopter was closer now—a tiny dot against the backdrop of the blue sky.

Grant turned to his dad.

“Do what she says,” he said to Dean.

“Hey,” Dean said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been through a lot to get to you. We’re a tough group...we’ll be fine.”

“Dad—” Grant started and stopped. He looked down the slide at the pilot and Blair below, and he ran his hand through his hair. “I love you.”

Dean nodded. “Of course, son. Now stop or I’ll think you’re trying to say goodbye.” He gave him a little push and Grant took the hint. He started to walk toward the slide without looking back.

“Stop!” Ainsley said and Grant paused to look at her. She slid out from behind her seat and held up an airsickness bag. “Here,” she said and extended it toward him. He balked a bit before reaching out and grabbing the white paper from her. Up close he realized that she had written a note in the margins, her girly script wrapped itself up the sides and around the back. “For Ethan,” she said. “Make sure he gets it, okay?”

“I can’t—” he said, stealing a look at Blair waiting for him down below. “There’s no way she’ll let me risk it,” he added in a whisper.

“Please,” Ainsley pleaded. “I’m begging you. I need Ethan to read it. I need...”

Grant looked at her, the girl with the angular face. He couldn’t help but stare at the sharpness of her features, the deep hollows of her cheeks. He caught a glimpse of the note as he folded it into fourths to put in his pocket. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it until now, she had written. The thickness of the bag created a bulky square against his leg and he patted and smoothed it down. “I’ll make sure,” he said and Ainsley didn’t thank him or smile, instead she ducked back down into the seat, her wide eyes the last thing to dip out of sight.

Grant waved to his dad, then turned and bounced down the slide and hit the bottom after catching some air toward the ground. Blair extended her hand and helped him up. In unison the pilot, Blair, and Grant turned toward the sound of their incoming ride. Even Frank pulled on his leash and lifted his nose toward the sky, anticipating the next adventure. Together they ran along the sand toward the noise, disappearing out of sight. And then they were gone.

The Old Orchard Beach Carnival was once a place of joyous laughing and good-natured screams, and everything had been painted in shades of cotton-candy pastels. A giant clown gaped down at them from the entrance off the street—a scary caricature with wavy pink lips, a red dot nose, and a lopsided tongue—and Darla grimaced as they walked underneath its vapid stare. Without lights and people and happy children, the park was a sad spectacle of rusting metal, torn tents, and discarded garbage. And as the sun set over the back of the town, a brisk wind flapped through the fenced-in park, which created a chill that was inescapable. All around them darkness fell, casting strange shadows around the enclosed area, and submerging the towers of the city Blair had called Kymberlin into  darkness.

They wandered between the old games—Skee-ball, balloon darts (little remnants of colored rubber still nailed to the barren corkboard), the bottle toss—and in and around the defunct rides. Two letters had fallen down on the sign to the Dragon Swing and it simply read: ragon Swng. The opening to the Tu

“I don’t want to stay here,” Ainsley said, wrapping her arms around her thin body. “This is beyond creepy.”

“The creepiness factor doesn’t compare to a basement with breeding rabbits. I’ll take freedom,” Darla said.

“I’m with Ainsley on this one,” Dean added. “I think the joy of nighttime is that we won’t have to look at all the creepy clown shit.”

“Creepy clown shit,” Ainsley repeated, punctuating each word and staring right at Darla. “Speaking of which, you think that clown café has something worth eating? Candy bars?”

“After all this time?” Darla shrugged. “We’ll scrounge what we can. And then tomorrow we’ll explore...find some necessities. We can pull the bags off the plane and go through those. Bet some of those boys packed food for their flight home.”

Dean wandered a few feet ahead of the girls. He stood looking at the wall separating the fun center and the beach. “Can they see us?” he asked to no one in particular.

Walking up beside him, Darla put her hands on her hips and followed his gaze. “No,” she answered. “They’re too far out. Blair wouldn’t have put us in danger.” It was a declarative statement; she had said it as if it meant something, as if she knew it was truth. But the truth had never felt so tenuous.